


Like A Cavity

by Madam_King



Category: Satan and Me (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Kissing, Lucifer l Satan, M/F, Profanity, Satan is a marshmallow, Smut, but still kinda cute, natalie McAllister - Freeform, natalie is a cinnamon roll, natan, satan and me - Freeform, so good it hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 18:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12326661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_King/pseuds/Madam_King
Summary: It’s storming. Natalie is afraid. Luce decides to “comfort” her...





	Like A Cavity

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back!! It’s been a minute since I’ve posted for SaM, but school has been pretty busy for me *cries from exhaustion*. But, enough about me! This is just a little fic I started early May and if the ending felt rushed, weeeeeeelllll that’s cause its was T.T . Leave any questions, comments, concerns down below. Please, enjoy! ~
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> (PS I own nothing.)

Where there was thunder, there was Natalie, cowering beneath her covers. For as long as she can remember, storms scared her. Most of the time, she managed. Usually, by plugging in her earbuds and trying to fall asleep. But, on the nights when the weather got so bad that the power went out, she knew she was irrevocably screwed, as her phone needed Wifi to work and without it, it made for a pretty paperweight.

A crash of lightening struck and the ginger clung harder to her blanket. She felt ridiculous, childish even, but her and her teeth, couldn't stop shaking. After the lightning strike, and the clap of thunder that followed suit, Satan appeared in the doorframe, wearing his older form, as Natalie’s father was still at work.

“Seriously? Again? It's just fucking thunder, kid,” Satan chastised, finding her a ball beneath endless sheets. 

“S- s- shut up,” Natalie said, her teeth still like a chronic epileptic.

Lucifer sighed and ran a hand through his dark mane. He had found her like this a lot lately, the storms for some reason more frequent this season. Once, the weather had gotten so bad he curled up with her, distracting her with stories from his past. That was a one time thing though, as he had reminded her. Far be it for him to actually comfort her, otherwise she’d begin to expect it every time it drizzled. Still, somewhere in the black cavern of his heart, he felt a twinge every time he watched her jump at a crack of lightning. He muttered something along the lines of ‘stupid contract’ before taking a seat at the edge of her overly feathered bed. 

“Lucifer?” The lump near the headboard asked.

“What?” he spat.

A moment passed before she said, “Thank you.”

Luce replied with a simple grunt and crossed his arms.

For a while the only exchange of sound was the symphony of storms just outside the window. Until Natalie asked, “Will you tell me some more stories?”

“No. Go to sleep.”

“Please?” 

The Devil grit his teeth, but nonetheless, succumbed.

“Fine. So, a long time ago, this…” he went on to explain his elaborate story, during a time history books forgot. The tale ended with him creating some war, a plague, and all around chaos. Natalie had risen from her cotton and polyester grave to listen, fascinated by the sheer impossibility and awesomeness of his retellings. By the end of it, she had completely forgotten about the storm and had been so immersed in his presence and stories, that she now sat beside him with wonder in her eyes. 

“It must be kinda nice to be immortal,” the ginger mused.

Luce shrugged, “Yeah. It can be.”

Nat sighed when suddenly, her lights turned back on. She gasped, excited.

“The power’s back on!” She shot up, rescuing her laptop from its bored stupor on her desk. She brought it back to the bed with her and snuggled up between Lucifer’s legs, with the simple explanation of, “Let’s watch a movie.” 

He neither agreed nor objected, just grimaced. 

The girl scrolled through the selection of movies on her Netflix account. She decided on a romance she had heard several friends recommend. The film started and Nat leaned back onto Lucifer’s chest, asking if he could see the screen. He grunted.

The plot was stagnant and the characters were generic, but Satan soon discovered that the movie’s entirety was for the sex scenes, as they were glamorized and drawn out. Of course, he hadn't batted an eye to them, but he had felt Natalie heat up, her embarrassment inexorable. She stuttered that she didn't know it would have ‘that type of stuff’ and apologized. He just rolled his eyes. The love making scene faded and was replaced by the lead actress waking up to an empty bed, as per customary. 

However, Satan’s attention shifted to the subtle movement of Natalie crossing her legs. He felt her back go rigid, the lower half of her muscles tensing. 

It was then he noticed the steady trickle of warmth coiling in his stomach.

Satan was quite familiar with the sensation but he was sure as shit not turned on. No way had that pitiful display of vanilla sex done anything for his sinister sexual appetite. 

Then a thought occurred to him. Could it be…

Her?

Was this a result of their contract? Was it possible? Satan had never been contracted this long, so he had no prior knowledge of this. Sure, he had felt his contractor’s pain after being tethered for a few months-- he was well aware of that fact in regards to Nat-- but could it extend to pleasure? Satan decided to find out, using the crudest method he could think of: Asking.

“Are you… horny?” Satan sneered, enjoying the way she jerked forward.

“What?” She asked, incredulously, spinning to face him. 

“You are, aren't you?” He said more than asked, taking more satisfaction in their situation than a cat would a ball of yarn. 

“Uh, no!” She shot, her blush belying her words. 

“So defensive. I was only asking a question, kid,” he accused, watching her breath quicken.

Oh, was she in for the worse payback imaginable. He was going to give her, quite possibly, the cruelest revenge he had ever thought up. 

“I’m not, so cut it out!” She demanded, a hint of panic in her tone.

“You're not, huh? Well then, it won't matter if I do this,” he ran a hand from his ear to his collarbone, watching the effect of their contract unfold before his eyes. Her body shivered, the invisible link they shared sending her the brush of sensation Lucifer had created. 

From his collarbone, Lucifer slid his fingers along his chest, taking his time to circle his nipple.

By then, Natalie was panting, her eyes fixated on his movements. 

“Done with the denial?”

Her trance ended, her features hardening. She was hesitating. Weighing her options. 

Then, ever so slightly, she nodded.

“Good,” he stated, grabbing her by her waist and yanking her into his lap, back to chest. She squeaked, but otherwise, said nothing. Her heartbeat thrummed against his chest. She was nervous and for good reason. The Devil knew she was turned on, a predicament that was equally vulnerable as having both arms and legs tied while being bent over. 

Oh, but that was an idea…

Satan shook his head, storing the idea in the recesses of his mind. For now, he wanted the ginger to suffer, slowly. Sweetly. Like a cavity, tearing away at the surface of something hard and untouched until all that was left was raw and exposed nerves. He was thankful the girl’s blithering idiot of a father wasn't home because he was going to have her the way he liked virgins: screaming and begging for more. 

He made for her neck, scooping back her hair as his lips found skin and brought it between his teeth, nipping, careful not to leave any evidence. Natalie shivered, inclining her head to offer him more room to roam. While distracting her with his tongue and teeth, Lucifer let his hands fall to her sides, traveling beneath her shirt. Her skin was soft and inviting, the trail his fingertips made leaving goosebumps all along her. Feeling bold, Satan went for her breasts, cupping them, kneading them. She wasn’t small, and she wasn't big, yet his hands sculpted perfectly around her. Natalie mewled and her eyes fell shut, utterly lost to the feeling of another’s hands swarming her, touching her. She had never gone this far with a boy, or anyone for that matter, and now she found herself wondering why. Was it because she was waiting for someone to touch her the way Lucifer was, with experience and expertise? Or was because she was just waiting for Lucifer? Natalie’s thoughts ended with the sharp pinch to both her nipples.

“Pay attention,” Lucifer whispered, “I want you to feel this. All of this.”

Natalie bit her lip, from both anticipation and excitement.

The Devil slid his fingers down, across her stomach, to her pajama shorts. From there, he dove beneath the fabric, past her underwear, to the slick bundle of nerve endings between her thighs. He heard her breath hitch before he took a finger and teased the small, wet, nub of flesh he was sure his Father had created as a gift to, well, everyone. 

Her hitch of breath turned into a gasp, to a moan, to panting as he increased the speed of his movements against her most sensitive skin.

“Lucifer,” Natalie whined, his fingers increasing and decreasing their speed. 

“Silly girl, did you think I was gonna let you come so soon?” Lucifer asked, the wickedness in his voice almost tangible. He retracted his hand and slid off her shorts and polka-dot underwear, with unsurprising ease. Free of her bottom half of clothes, Satan went to grip behind her knees, pulling her legs farther apart, exposing the remnants of all her secrets. She tried to hide herself with the tail ends of her shirt, but Satan decided that just wouldn’t do. So her shirt, too, left, along with her bra. Natalie McAllister was naked now, the only thing on her, Lucifer’s eyes. And by the blush heating the expanse of her body, she wasn't sure if that was a good thing. That was, until his hands found her again, their touch exploring every ridge and arch of muscle, of skin. The trails he made left sparks of fire along her forearms, her legs, her stomach, until they vanished. Natalie made a huff of disappointment that turned into a noise of surprise when Satan spun her around to face him. He was tired of seeing her back. He wanted to see her face now, if the blush on her face was a red as her hair. He was wrong. Her face was much redder, offering everything she was thinking. She was always so open, so trusting, so transparent. Which was what Lucifer always liked about her. How her nature, not just as a human, but as an entity, a being, was so vastly different that what he was accustomed too. How his brothers never slipped of their perfect soldier, perfect son, facades. Natalie was different, everything you could ever want to know about her laid in her eyes and in her face. She felt everything with all that she was. Which, quite honestly, was why Lucifer thought he began to feel what she felt so much faster than he had with any previous contractors. Given, most of the time, it was her pain he felt, but still he felt her. Her joy, immense joy, and laughter and confusion and curiosity. Whatever she felt, Satan was sent a small fragment of it, nowhere as intense as Natalie’s pure and real emotion; just a taste. 

Thinking of things to taste, Lucifer realized he had yet to actually kiss Natalie. The thought took him aback. He had undressed, run his hands along her, yet the thought of kissing her seemed so much more intimate for some reason. Was it because this was just a way for him to torture her, to get back at her for all the stupid shit she ordered of him? Or was it something else? 

Though the question lingered in his mind, Satan still had managed to bring his lips to hers. Their kiss was tentative, but then it built, and built, until he wasn't sure whose tongue was whose. Be it by perfect design or a cruel joke of his Father, but they fit together, constructed to melt against each other effortlessly. Satan was sure Natalie had never kissed a boy, yet she was doing everything right. With every flick of her tongue, Natalie brought him closer to where he loved to be: between grounded reality and clouded ecstasy. 

Natalie wiggled a hand in between them and tugged on Lucifer’s robes, trying to untie the cloth. The act tempted Lucifer on further, quickly undoing his robes and taking hold of himself and sliding within Natalie’s already parted legs. She gasped, her insides feeling assaulted by a foreign intruder.

“Fuck,” the Devil cursed, “you’re so tight, Nat. Have you never even fingered yourself?”

She blushed and shook her head. “No. Never. Never have wanted to.”

The realization that he and he alone was the only thing to know her hotness, her tightness, was almost too much for the fallen angel to bear. He wanted to look at her eyes, but Satan didn’t trust himself to, afraid he might come right then and there. This was only suppose to be a revenge scheme, but now he wasn’t so sure it was. Satan had had fucked, more than enough to satiate even the lustiest sinners, but this wasn’t fucking. Nor was it even sex. This, them, together, was more. More than what Lucifer could put into words, in any language. 

His stomach grew tight and his throat dried. What was this fear that she twisted out of him? Fear that all they had was now, that tomorrow was a blink and breath away. That now was here, with them, hungry for every second so that tomorrow could starve. Natalie was fleeting and he was forever. Where could they last? Where could they be? Was there hope? Lucifer’s fear was replaced by panic, the thoughts of things to come consuming him. Though he never needed breath, he now felt like he did. 

“Where are you?” Natalie whispered, feeling his movements still. Her hands found his face in the grey light. Her warm fingers rattled the coldness of his cheek. ‘Where are you’, she had asked him. He knew she didn’t mean where as in where in the world, but rather where in his mind had he left her. ‘Far’, he wanted to say, ‘too far for you to follow’. 

“Look at me,” the ginger cooed, tucking her hand beneath his chin. Did he dare look at her? What if she could see his thoughts? What if she looked into his eyes and saw his fear? Or worse, saw him. 

The Devil looked up. If he had been standing, he would’ve lost his footing. Her face, her complexion was all her. She looked different, their sexual interaction somehow making her seem older, darker, sensual. Three things Natalie McAllister was not. 

Until today. Until him.

Satan, however, told her none of this. Instead, he promised, “Here. With you.”

Judging by her expression, Lucifer knew she wasn’t convinced. However, instead of offering words of assurance, he flipped her onto her back, caging Natalie and her questions below himself. He wasn’t one much for ‘missionary’, but he needed access to the things that matter if he was going to have his way with her. Which he most definitely was. It was too little too late to call it quits now. But, by now, he was pretty sure his human wasn’t backing out either, her wetness drenching his fingers as he slid a hand between her legs. She made a noise the told him he was stroking all the right places. After a few more moments teasing her with his finger, he relented, only to take up himself slid within her. Like before, she was tight, to the point Lucifer didn’t know if she was trapping him on purpose. But after she squirmed, her body silently begging for him, he surmised she wasn’t holding him captive. Sliding out this time, he unceremoniously rammed back within her, causing her gasp, “Lucifer.”

His name on her lips sent a shiver along his spine. Oh, he liked that, almost a little too much. But he could stand to hear it again. So, made the motion again and again, gasps and moans growing louder and louder the faster, the harder, he took her. He felt the tension coiling deep inside both of them, ready to to be released. They were racing toward to the finish line, together, excited to feel the banner tear. 

But then, lightning struck and Lucifer opened his eyes. He was… awake? Had been asleep, dreaming? He looked around, finding himself in the familiar space of Natalie’s room. Yet, he was clothed and sitting on her pink bean bag chair, most definitely not in the midst of what he was dreaming of. 

“What the…” he questioned, bewildered by the realness of his dream. 

In the middle of deciphering reality from fantasy, Luce heard Natalie stir. She sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Lucifer?” She asked, sensing the overwhelment of his confusing even through sleep. 

“Yeah, its me,” he assured, “Go back to bed.”

She mumbled something unintelligent but nonetheless settled back beneath her blanket. Her quiet snores soon filled the room again, but their familiarity did nothing to deter the Devil’s confusion. It wasn’t until, through the pattern of rain and Natalie’s kitten snoring, Lucifer heard something a conscious Natalie would never say, “Harder, Lucifer.”


End file.
